


The Old Days

by bluestockng



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, The Marauders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestockng/pseuds/bluestockng
Summary: A mission for the Order ends in disaster and death; only Lily Potter can hold the Marauders together in the aftermath.





	The Old Days

If there was anything in the world that Lily Potter hated, it was waiting on her own. She despised the quiet, disconcerting silence that surrounded her, reminding her of her fears and leaving her alone with her repetitive, gloomy thoughts. Anxiously, she trailed pale, nimble fingers through her bright auburn hair. Lily knew that she must look a sight; hours before dawn, no sleep, hair a mess, skin ashen, crinkled lines of worry etched on her brow years before their time. 

They should have been back by now. A dirty old boot and a woman’s handbag sat accusatorily on her floor, no doubt nicked from an unsuspecting muggle’s trash heap. The worthless objects stared her down accusatorily, reminding her that the men she loved had not yet returned. Worse yet, they had missed their portkeys. If they missed their portkeys then they’d missed their rendezvous spots which meant…  
Lily shook her head to banish her dark thoughts, if only for a moment. She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked slowly back and forth, taking comfort in the warmth of James’s old Gryffindor sweater. She absentmindedly wiggled a finger through a hole in the cuff without taking her eyes off of the forlorn boot. It still smelled of him: fresh Quidditch leather, the smoky, burning coals of the common room fireplace, the scent of a night romp through the Forbidden Forest, and a tinge of that awful Sleekeazy’s cologne he’d worn so often fifth year, back when she could’ve spit at the sight of him. 

Ordinarily, she might have tried to distract herself by tending Harry and keeping him occupied and content. For once, though, Harry appeared to be sleeping peacefully and she wasn’t keen to wake him in order to settle her own nerves. 

It was well past two in the morning now and fatigue beckoned her, but she refused sleep’s dogged advances. She couldn’t sleep until she knew that they were safe. By her count, Remus and Peter should have been back forty-five minutes before, James should have been back forty minutes before, and Sirius was expected in moments. Fear kept her rooted to the spot, unwilling to answer the Patronus she’d been sent minutes earlier. Death was out in the night and Lily dared to pray that it had not found those she loved.

As she rubbed the weariness from her eyes, a bright patch of blue light lit up the center of the room. Breathlessly, she stood from her seat and awaited her new arrival. Already through the light she could make out a tall, lean shape dressed in dark robes the color of liquid midnight.

“James?”

“Just me, I’m afraid.”

Sirius strode forward to catch her as Lily propelled herself into her arms with a cry of “Padfoot!” She looped one arm around his neck and her other around his waist as he dropped a ragged tophat to the floor, drawing her close. He stood nearly a foot taller than she, requiring the use of her tip-toes. His strong embrace reminded her of a hug they’d shared only a few years before at her wedding: a messenger appeared in the middle of festivities to inform James of another death. Seeing the fear in her eyes, Sirius held her close and whispered in her ear, promising to take care of James, saying that he would never let anything happen to him. Before handing her back to her husband, he brushed her tears away discreetly with his sleeve. Now, as then, she she felt his heart beating a frantic tattoo against his chest. It was proof, at least, that one of them was safe and untouched. Sirius rested his head against the top of hers, loaning her his stalwart strength. Lily felt the clenched knot within her stomach loosen somewhat. Grateful, Lily clung to him harder, never wanting to let go of her stable tether.

“I take it the others didn’t get back, then?” 

For her sake, Sirius kept his voice calm and level. Lily, however, recognized the flicker of terror in his eyes. Surely, he noticed the parallel fear in hers as well.

“No, they all should have been before you,” Lily whispered, finally pulling away from him and wiping her eyes, “I knew it was you just now, I knew the schedule…I just had hoped…” Lily finished sheepishly, not meeting Sirius’s intense gaze.

“You don’t need to explain to me, Lily. James is your husband, there’s nothing wrong with playing favorites.”

Lily managed a smile.

“Is Harry sleeping through the nights, now?”

Any other night, she would have welcomed the change of subject. She appreciated his effort, and she knew how much he adored Harry, but Sirius’s thoughts, like hers, were consumed by the liminality of not knowing the fates of James, Remus, and Peter.

He would never tell her so as not to worry her, but she knew him well enough to see the truth in his eyes. He was terrified for the others. For James. Lily didn’t release her hold on Sirius, she didn’t break away from his steady grey gaze that searched her own eyes for answers she could not yet give. Once, not so long ago, those eyes had been playful and full of mirth. He and James had gone to great lengths to make her laugh and smile. How long had it been since humor and joy filled her house? Time passed between them like a quiet echo, haunting and lingering. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Sirius took her by the hand and gently led her to the sofa. He broke away from her only for a moment to fetch a decanter of firewhiskey from the old cupboard. The liquor rarely stayed full for long these days. With shaking hands, he poured a generous portion for her and pressed it into her hands. At the very least, it would warm her and steel her a spine a little. Sirius swallowed down a gulp, not even bothering to fill another glass. Lily followed suit, downing her entire drink a single go. He refilled her glass.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Padfoot.” 

Beside her, she felt him stiffen, waiting for the blow. Lily tried to dismiss thoughts of spies and traitors and betrayal. She couldn’t handle those thoughts now.

“An hour ago, Dorcas sent me a Patronus. She said that three Darks Marks were spotted in the sky tonight. She couldn’t say for certain where. _Three in one night."_

Lily turned her eyes upward, but not to pray. Whatever power might be out there had abandoned her long ago. 

“Frank mentioned it during our rendezvous. I was late, though, and I missed my portkey. He said one was in Cornwall. He thought it was a muggle they killed. The other was a muggle village not far from Hogsmeade.”

“And the third?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Diagon Alley? I don’t want to believe it, Lily. I hoped it was just a rumor…just fear playing tricks with our heads.”

“I thought…three Dark Marks and four of you missing but two of you together…” 

Lily swallowed a strangled cry with difficultly.

“It was chaos, Lily. There were two other missions tonight, to distract from ours. We coordinated everything perfectly. Spent weeks planning every second, but it felt like they were waiting for us. We thought we were assaulting Karkaroff’s hideout, Dumbledore thinks if we apply pressure that he might crack and give us information we need about Voldemort recruiting in Scandinavia. But when we got there, it wasn’t just Karkaroff we ran into. Dolohov, Rosier, and Avery were there, too. Remus was supposed to be watching the place all day, but he never showed up for the mission. We got his Patronus, though, for the go-ahead a few hours before.”

“He never showed up?”

“I don’t know if he’s even alive, Lily.”

Lily’s mind reeled at the hollowness in his voice; she clutched James’s sweater about herself, willing it to swallow her whole.

“James and Peter? Did they—?”

Lily curled up around herself, holding onto her tumbler as if for dear life.

“We got the upperhand, I don’t know how. I didn’t like our odds against them, not when we’re down Remus. Especially not in tight quarters. James shouted for us to disaparate, so I did. I didn’t go direct to my rendezvous, though, because Dolohov was grappling with me and I didn’t want to bring him to the safehouse. I don’t know where the others went.”

“You’re the only one who made their portkey.”

Sirius rubbed his palm against his forehead, desperate to clear his thoughts and remember the events of the evening more clearly. 

“James knocked over a bookshelf in the apartment, but that was the last I saw of him,” Sirius must have seen the panic come over Lily’s face, because he pulled her close and kneaded her knuckles with his fingers, “I’m sure he made it out, Lily.”

The dread nearly overwhelmed her and she shook her head violently. Lily didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Say the word, Lily, and I’ll go back out to search for him.”

The earnestness of his declaration, burning with restless energy, scared her. Lily could not lose him, too. Already, he began to rise. She clutched his hand in hers.

“No! I won’t let you do that, Sirius. I can’t let you leave when I know that you’re safe here. Besides, that’s what Voldemort wants. He wants to draw us out, like he did the McKinnons.”

Lily reached out her hand and clasped his, as if her touch alone would prevent him from leaving. 

“I need you here. Harry does, too.”

Mentioning Harry was enough to keep Sirius at her side. 

“I’m scared, Padfoot. It seems like the war is just getting worse. I don’t know if we’ll all make it out…”

Sirius gently took the glass from her hand, depositing it upon a side table.

“Lily, you and James will make it out, just fine. You’ll grow old together and it’ll be disgusting. You’ll name the next kid after me, because if there’s anyone you need to worry about dying young, it’s me,” she watched him force a doggish smile for her sake.

“We couldn’t get along without you, Sirius.”

“You’d be just fine, Lily. _James_ , on the other hand…no, no. You’ll both be just fine, love.”

“I wish I could believe that’s true.”

She wanted to tell Sirius the entire truth: if James didn’t return, she would need his help to care for Harry. The thought of raising Harry alone terrified her, and the black, hollow pit in her stomach threatened to swallow her whole. Desperately, she reached out to Sirius, praying for him to anchor her. Neither of them could get by without James. She squeezed his fingers tighter and welcomed his squeeze in return, perhaps a little too forceful, but gladly accepted any other kind of pain to distract from her own fraught thoughts. 

“I don’t know if I can raise him alone.”

“You won’t ever have to. James will be just fine. And besides, he’s got me. He’ll always have me.”

She wanted to throw her arms around him, she wanted to hug him, she wanted to cry into his shoulder. But, the next thing Lily knew, the fireplace lit up with burning, green fire. Both she and Sirius bounded to their feet, clearing the distance even before James managed to step from the grate and brush the soot off his robes. Gangly, bespectacled, and sporting new bruises on his face, he looked like a man who fought his way out of hell. She didn’t bother trying to hide her tears from him. As she clung to the front of his robes, he held her with a dazed expression on his face. 

Lily barely noticed when Sirius silently excused himself to check on Harry. In another time, Lily knew he would have been the first to embrace James. Now, however, Lily thought that he probably sensed that his best friends needs a few moments to themselves. Lily didn’t want to break their hug long enough to kiss him, for she feared that the moment she let go he would disappear into puffs of smoke and ash. The liquor made her wobbly, relief made her dizzy. None of it seemed real. 

“I take it that you’re glad to have me home in one piece, eh Evans?” James grinned in his wicked way that usually set her aflame, but now it stung.

“Please don’t joke, James. Not about that.”

“I’m sorry,” James managed, supporting Lily as she clung to him and cried, her face buried in his chest.

“I thought you were dead,” Lily murmured in a muffled voice, “I don’t know what I would have done.”

Through her tears, she knew that James must want to extricate himself from her hold and maneuver them both to the sofa, but she couldn’t find the will to move just yet. In the moment she’d spent with Sirius, she had been faced with the thought of a future without him. She had found that future unbearable: so deep was her despair that she could have drowned in it. In quick movements, she felt his body up and down, running her hands over his robes to confirm that he truly stood in front of her. Looking up, she almost laughed at his glasses, perched off-kilter on his nose. He was real.

Finally, she quieted long enough to pull away and throw her arms about his neck. His arms encircled her waist. For the briefest moment, all of her fright disappeared. Slowly, though, her fears crept back upon her, invading their reprieve. Need and fear compelled them to speak. 

When Sirius returned to the living room, probably content that Harry slept soundly, he found Lily sipping another glass of firewhiskey and James drinking as well. At the sight of Sirius, James downed the rest of his drink with a shaky laugh. To Lily, his eyes seemed to say “we made it out again, old friend.” Lily sat down one more upon the sofa, pulling a pillow into her arms. Sirius and James hugged one another, dispensing with the formalities of less intimate friends. Lily knew that they steadied each other: Sirius held James as close as he had held her. James whispered low to Sirius, but Lily didn’t feel the need to know why. Always, she considered Sirius an extension of James. From the beginning, Lily understood the depth of their friendship. She marveled a bit at them, buoyed by the liquor in her system, and thoughtfully considered that before James, she had never trusted anyone so much as James and Sirius trusted each other.

“Thanks for taking care of Lily,” James said in a muffled voice as he let go of Sirius. Lily silently wondered if James had hugged Sirius like that all those years ago when the latter appeared on his doorstep with nothing but a black eye and a haphazardly packed suitcase. There was no posturing or pretense between them, just two men relieved and a little shocked to still be alive. 

“Lily’s never needed anybody to take care of her, mate.”

James took up his spot next to Lily while Sirius settled upon the armrest. They sat in uncomfortable silence, Lily’s head upon James’s shoulder and her fingers twined with Sirius’s. 

“Did Harry wake up?” 

“No, hard to believe he comes from your stock though, James. I’ve never known you to stay quiet that long.”

A small smile, brief but true, broke over her face. At least one of them would sleep peacefully dreams.

“Do you think he’ll learn “Padfoot” or “Sirius” first?”

Lily thought that it was a shame that Sirius seemed too preoccupied with the Order to notice any of the women who might strike his fancy if only he let them. He might never become a father, and seeing the way he doted on Harry, she considered it a shame. In the silence, Lily left her mind drift. She wondered if Sirius distanced himself on purpose: he was clever enough to see the shadows of darkness on his periphery. He feared becoming his family, he feared attachments that he couldn’t ensure. Lily watched as he guarded his heart, aware of the wildness and danger which he and the others willingly courted. Try as he might to hide it, she had seen from the start that his heart was made for affection. He simply loved too ferociously, and sometimes, she suspected, the depth of feeling terrified him. 

Lily had no doubt that James loved Harry fiercely, but most nights he dragged himself exhausted into bed, aching from injuries and fatigue. He couldn’t always be the father he wanted to be. Instead, he demonstrated his love through protecting Harry and shielding Lily. Remus, on the other hand, entertained Harry with clever magic ticks, but never picked him up. When she asked James why, he confided that Remus was afraid of dropping baby Harry. They both knew the truth, however: Remus didn’t believe himself to be worthy of holding something so pure. No, of all her men, it was Sirius who would volunteer to hold Harry long into the night when he suffered from colick. It was Padfoot who gave him rides on his back. Sirius loved James as a brother, he adored Lily as a sister, but it was little Harry whom he loved most of all. 

Just as Lily’s eyes began to flicker shut, the fireplace erupted once more in green flames. Peter Pettigrew stumbled forward out of the ashes, crashing into the ground. Jumping to their feet, the others surrounded him and turned him over carefully. He mumbled incoherently, only managing to string together a few words at a time.

_"Splin...splinched...Benjy..."_

Sure enough, crimson blood soaked through Peter’s robes, a chunk of flesh missing from his hand. The wound glistened in the lamplight, strangling the room with the stench of coppery, acrid blood. Sirius and James lifted Peter and half-carried, half-dragged him to the sofa. Leaving them behind, Lily sprinted to the kitchen, madly searching through her cupboard for Dittany amongst the forgotten remnants of Potions classes past. She tossed bottles, they clattered against the counter and the floor. Her thoughts crashed together, like waves breaking upon a rocky shore. Peter was hurt, Peter was alive, Peter needed her help…  
Peter might lack the nerve and conviction of the others; Lily knew he’d been kicked around a little too much and clung to the people who would protect him. Others in the Order might not see his value immediately, but Lily appreciated his loyalty. The world couldn’t be populated solely by leaders and Peter seemed content to follow and offer support. He’d confessed to her once that he felt lost in the shadow of James and Sirius, men, he said with a note of bitterness, who were born to be legends. But it had been Peter who appeared at her doorstep after the McKinnons died to console her. 

From the other room, she heard Peter’s strangled, garbled speech. Finally, her hand closed around a tiny, brown vial. Returning to the living room, she knelt before Peter and took his arm. He tried to wrench himself free.

“Has he gone mad? Hold him!”

James and Sirius clapped their arms around Peter and held him still, but he seemed to be trapped in his delirium. Lily unstopped the vial and dropped the essence onto Peter’s wound, releasing noxious green vapors as his skin slowly began to heal. As the skin grew back over, Peter thrashed less and regained some of himself. Still, Sirius and James retained a strong hold on Peter.

“Wormy, what happened?”

His pupils were endless pools of black in his slack, whiskery face. He heaved, caught between a sigh and a gasp, as he tried to focus his gaze on Lily.

“I ran out into the street with the others…Remus was supposed to be there to help me. I tried to disaparrate, I splinched myself. I ended up at the Leaky Cauldron, I…I panicked and I couldn’t remember the name of our safehouse. I thought I could maybe meet up with Benjy, since he’s casing Borgin & Bourke’s tonight. We were gonna head back to headquarters together, but that’s when they showed up in the alley…” 

“Death Eaters?”

Peter nodded, his gaze slipping from Lily’s face.

“You-know-who was there.”

Lily gasped and clapped her hands over her face, barely able to control the tremors which wracked her body.

“How did you get away?”

Peter shook his head, shuddering.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. One of the Death Eaters blew apart the street with a spell; one second Benjy was there and the next he was just…” Peter cleared his throat and shook his head, willing the demons away, “there wasn’t anything of him left, James. Blood everywhere. I stunned one of them and disaparated to the Leaky Cauldron. I know it was stupid, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I used the fireplace there…it was empty…don’t think Tom will talk…” 

Lily came to her senses first, casually addressing James so as not to panic Wormtail. She pressed her own abandoned tumbler into his hands and watched him slurp the firewhiskey down.

“We need to send a message to Dumbledore, I don’t think we can afford to wait for Remus to arrive. He needs to inform the ministry and send Aurors out to Diagon Alley.”

James drew his wand with a practiced flourish.

_"Expecto patronum!"_

The luminescent stag burst forth, soaring through the window into the dark of the night.

“That explains the third Dark Mark in the sky tonight.”

The room fell silent, with the exception of Peter’s noiseless panting. They lost so many members of the Order recently and Lily knew they all pictured the same fallen faces. In secret, members of the Order whispered that someone must be passing secrets. Very few openly discussed the possibility; Lily didn’t want to consider it. But, multiple ambushes in a single night warranted doubt…  
“Where is Remus in all of this? Is there any news? There’s no fourth Dark Mark?”

“Not so far,” James posited, sitting down once more, “but I don’t like this. He sent us the go-ahead. Hell, he told us he’d be there himself just like we all planned. They might have grabbed him when he was staking out the place.”

“There was no sign of him in the house, James.” Sirius suggested, a steely note in his tone.

“That doesn’t mean anything. It was madness, Sirius. We barely made it out ourselves.”

James ran a hand over his face. Lily recognized the grey patches under his eyes and the days-old stubble on his chin. If only she’d known how the night would develop, she might have brewed a sleeping draught to help them all sleep soundly. She felt her nerves fray with each passing moment: she was thankful that James, Sirius, and Peter were alive. The bitter truth of Remus’s absence, however, still hung heavy in the air, suffocating her. How many more would they lose before the war was over? When it was all said and done…who, if anyone, would remain? 

For the third time that night, the fireplace sprung to life, billowing green flames and ash into the room. Remus Lupin stepped forth, glancing around the room as if caught in a trance. Lily barely had time to throw herself into his arms and press a light kiss to his prickly cheek before Sirius dragged her away.

“Where were you?” Lily thought Sirius’s air seemed far too accusative, wasn’t he thankful that Remus was alive?

“What happened to you, Moony? We thought…”

“No, James. I’m alright,” Remus’s voice sounded utterly exhausted, “Did you hear about Benjy?” 

“Where the hell were you, Remus?” Sirius shoved Lily behind his back and lifted his wand, pointing it at Remus’s chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but something came up.” Remus’s eyes darted to the door, then back to Sirius.

“Something came up? Do you have any idea what’s happened tonight?”

Remus shook his head. Lily had never seen him look so downtrodden: his ragged robes hung off his thin frame. His face appeared gaunt, as if it wasted away before her very eyes. 

“Sirius, is the wand necessary? I’m sure Moony has a perfectly good—”

Sirius shot her a warning look. He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to.

“You were supposed to help us tonight, but you never showed. And now you waltz in here like nothing’s happened? We were _ambushed!_ The Death Eaters nearly got Peter, they would’ve too, if they hadn’t got Benjy Fenwick first.” 

Lily recognized the stricken look on Remus’s face. Many years ago, the same look flashed across his face when she finally worked up the nerve to ask about his condition. Of the Marauders, she’d befriended him first. Brilliant but shy, he was outclassed in charisma and popularity by James and Sirius, but his humor and mischievous nature coming out in rare moments of frivolity. They bonded in the restricted section of the library as they poured over ancient tomes and shared illicit chocolate Remus smuggled in. James and Sirius, naturally, were in detention. He had few friends to lean on, no one outside of their group knew him well, and when Lily asked him _why_ he’d simply told her—in a moment of brutal honesty—that there wasn’t room in his heart for much else. Lily long suspected he didn’t leave enough room for himself.

“You told us that the house was safe to enter. You told us that you were there, waiting for us. Were you ever there?”

Peter, mostly recovered now from his wounds, shifted nervously on the sofa, his eyes following Sirius’s pacing.

“I’m sorry. I was called away.” His voice shook and he made no move to defend himself: years of self-loathing and guilt took their toll on his frail body. A hint of sallow tinged his pallid face.

“What could be more important than the Order?” 

A nerve jumped in Sirius’s jaw. Soon, his patience would evaporate, boiled away by his dangerous temper.

“Is it trouble with money? Did you lose the flat again, Moon? We can loan you more—”

“It’s not money, James,” Remus heaved a tired sigh, “though I wish it was that simple.”

“It was a mission for Dumbledore. He called me away, sent a Patronus. It didn’t give me the time to let you know I wouldn’t be there, that I left before the observation period ended.”

“You sent us in without knowing what we were walking into!” Sirius raised his voice. Lily watched Peter flinch. “Peter nearly died!”

“I didn’t have a choice.” The louder Sirius shouted, the quieter Remus became. He spoke now almost in a whisper, pleading with his friends to understand.

Remus, Lily knew, only ever wanted to belong. Whatever secret he kept for Dumbledore threatened to rip him into shreds. He looked tattered enough already. 

“What were you doing for Dumbledore?”

“I want to tell you,” Remus beseeched Sirius, “but I can’t. I promised Dumbledore that I wouldn’t.”

“We’re your friends, Remus. Dumbledore knows that.”

Remus’s gaze flickered to the point of Sirius’s wand.

“Dumbledore thinks there’s a spy in the Order.” 

Sirius kept his voice even, but Lily sensed the danger that lurked underneath. Lily saw the tension in his shoulders and the flash of fear in his eyes. No one spoke; the five of them teetered on a precipice, precariously close to falling over the edge, into a deep pit from which they could never escape. In that instant, Lily knew that they would never again be as they were. For nearly a year, the rumor had hung over them like the Sword of Damocles. None of them voiced it, they were too afraid to make such an accusation real. 

“We’ve all known it,” Sirius finally spoke, shattering the silence, “known it a long time. It’s one of us…that’s why Dumbledore won’t let you tell us.”

“I don’t believe it. Not for a second,” James stepped between Sirius and Remus, joined by Lily, “I trust all of you with my life. With Harry’s life. We’ve all risked our lives for the Order a hundred times over. Merlin’s beard.”

His voice broke and turned away, unable to continue. Lily couldn’t recall ever seeing James like this: lost, confused, hopeless. 

“We’ve all known—for a year—that someone was passing the Order’s secrets on. How else can you explain how they knew where we’d all be?”

“For God’s sake, Sirius. I can’t. But I can promise, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t,” Remus seemed defeated, “You saved me. Why would I betray you?”

“To save your own skin?” Sirius hissed from between clenched teeth.

“You know me better than that. _You know me!"_

“Tell that to Marlene and Benjy Fenwick.”

Remus lost all colour in his face. What little fight remained within him vanished; with the slightest shrug of his wane shoulders, Remus Lupin turned to go.

“No!” Lily took his arm, holding him fast. He couldn’t even summon the strength to wrench free from her fingers. “This what Voldemort wants; can’t you see

“I should be going, Lily.” He spoke calmly, kindly. But she saw the way the accusation haunted him. 

James placed a hand on Sirius’s arm. Something appeared in Sirius’s eyes, then. He looked long and hard at Remus. It wasn’t the mist of tears, it was the shade of regret. Once spoken, some words could never be taken back.

“Moony…”

Lily saw Remus wither away in the face of scrutiny, wounded beyond grief. Another man might have stormed off, but Remus remained. They gazes locked on one another. With gentle fingers, Lily lifted a photograph off the wall. It showed her men as she wanted to think of them: youthful, clever, arm in arm and grinning. She showed it to Sirius.

“Do you remember when I took this?”

“How could I forget, Lily?”

His face softened. He probably pictured countless hours spent by the lake under the shade of their old gnarled tree as they all planned out their next night wandering or adventure. He might be remembered those nights when they would all stay awake, occupying the common room, discussing the future as if any of their big plans would come to fruition. The photograph was a painful reminder of all the little things that made friendships sparkle in youth but which were forgotten in the seriousness of adulthood.

“This was the day after you and James proposed to Professor McGonagall…I’d never seen the Great Hall so quiet.”

With deft hands, he took the photograph from her, entrapped by the pull of the past. 

“You know, I think she might have actually smiled at me.”

At last, Sirius dropped his wand and turned his attention to James.

“I think that was a grimace, mate.”

“I should be going, Lily,” Remus still spoke in a whisper. He had already taken a handful of Floo Powder; Lily intercepted him. 

“No, not tonight, Remus. I need you all here with me. All of us, scattered? I can’t bare it. Not tonight, please.”

She did not remove her hand from his. Gingerly, she coaxed him back into the room. With a flick of her wand, Lily summoned blankets and cots. She and James could easily have slept in their bedroom upstairs, instead, Lily suggested that they all stay in the same room. 

“Like the old days.” She insisted, handing Remus her fluffiest pillow.

It took considerable convincing for Peter to agree to sleep on the sofa. His injuries, Lily reminded him, required more comfort than the rest. They had only a few hours until dawn, but Lily forced the curtains closed all the same. As they all lay down to sleep, Lily silently thanked whatever might be listening for bringing them back alive to her; she reached for James’s hand in the dark and listened for Sirius’s doglike snore. Only after the others fell asleep did she closed her eyes. As she drifted between sleep and wakefulness, Lily could almost pretend that they were seventeen again: crowded under quilts, passing butterbeer back and forth in front of the Gryffindor fireplace. They never would be again, of course, but for tonight she could pretend.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that’s been rattling around in my brain for the better part of ten years, and I finally decided to sit down and get it out of the way. I wanted to illustrate how discord and distrust might have grown between the Marauders. I may be taking some liberties here, as I use the death of the McKinnons to root the story in a definite timeline. Unfortunately, the death of the McKinnons in July/summer (a detail from Lily’s letter to Sirius) of 1981 means that this story takes place within the next few months before the end of the war in October of 1981. By that point, the Potters had long been in hiding under the Fidelius Charm and were not seeing their friends frequently (can anyone actually give me a date as to when this charm was cast? Book 3 seems to imply it was cast close to when the Potters died, but they were certainly in hiding before that). I doubt that J.K. intended for the dates to be this close (after all, why would the Potters go out of permanent hiding to take a photo with the Order in 1981?) but I decided to go with the information I could find. For the sake of the story, I wanted to use the names of real Order members and not make people up (all of the members mentioned in the photograph died after it was taken thus restricting my timeline to just a few months/weeks between the photograph being taken and Voldemort’s fall). In order to fit more comfortably into canon, I suggest reading this as the final mission of the marauders before James permanently goes into hiding with Lily and stops working actively for the Order. Since Lily mentions “little excursions” in her letter to Sirius and because they were present for the group photo, I think that even while in hiding, James and Lily might have still undertaken occasional odd jobs for the Order.
> 
> Also, I deliberately kept Peter’s role in this vague. I always assumed that Remus must be doing side missions—possibly with the werewolves like in Book 6—which might explain why Sirius stopped trusting him (not because he’s a werewolf/undercover with the werewolves but because it conflicts with helping the Marauders), especially if Dumbledore forbid him from telling his friends because of the spy. I wanted to imply that Peter’s disappearance might have been a secret meeting with the Death Eaters. It wouldn’t be the night he turned traitor, though, because Sirius implies in Book 3 that the spy had been passing information to Voldemort for a year before the Potters died. By this point, Peter would have been a rat, if not a bonafide Death Eater.
> 
> If anybody can confirm/deny any of the assumptions I’ve made or fill in details I missed, I’d be happy to know! Thanks for reading!


End file.
